Chapter 38 Revisited! One choice
by jadephoenix84
Summary: One choice can change fate...One shot, several chappies, RoyRiza. Character Death[s?] Read and find out muwahaha :D Lime, some imagined lemon give me a reason, people!. :D Violence, of course. Please R&R, I need a new obsession. Chapters edited.
1. One Choice

Yay, my first--oh wait... (remembers failed Star Wars fic) Okay, SECOND non SoulCalibur fiction. I don't own FMA characters, but i would LOVE to own COL Mustang. ;) whips & chains I also have planned a humorous one and an AU one.

Okay, for all you nonmilitary peoples, GO 1A basically prohibits stuff that causes distractions. Stuff like alkeemahol, having a pet (poor Fluffers :( ), sex in general and fraternization. Fraternization basically means that servicemembers can't date, have sex with or otherwise be preoccupied with anyone in their chain of command.

Not that that has anything to do with the story (eyeroll)) (catches sarcasm in a cup and drinks it) Aah, nectar of the gods...

This is basically CH 38 revisited. WWCMD (What would COL Mustang do for all you nonEnglish majors) if Riza Hawkeye went with him and what if Lt. Havoc went with Al? This is all kinda one shot. We all KNOW that Riza and Roy were meant to be :) Keep in mind that I am not in a position to be able to finish the entire FMA series... T.T

BTW, please R&R.

* * *

Tears of Blood:

"We're going to split up. Don't go too far and report back if you see anything." Colonel Roy Mustang glanced over his shoulder at Jean Havoc and Alphonse Elric. "Lt. Hawkeye, you're with me."

The two groups went in the opposite direction, each searching for Barry the Chopper and his "body". The hallway was long and damp and dark. _Utterly miserable..._ Mustang thought. He turned to look at his partner, Lt. Riza Hawkeye. The blonde woman was walking slightly backwards, keeping her pistol pointed the way that they had come, providing rear security. It was good to have her on his team.

Not that Lt. Havoc was a bad soldier; he was just better with Al--the kid needed an eye kept on him. He wasn't exactly a hardened battle type; even with all that armor and alchemy, he was still just a 13 year old boy. Lt. Havoc was the best person to do that...

"It smells so bad in here..." Lt. Hawkeye's observation was just that, an observation. It did not deter her from her duty at hand and that was what Roy, the boy-at-heart man, loved about this woman.

Not that he'd ever tell her while she was in the Army; even when not in a war zone, General Order 1A still applied. He would never leave the Army, but she wouldn't either. He could transfer her and then ask her out, but she might resent him for removing her from his site--she was always insecure like that.

The current situation slowly drew him out of his reverie, as did Lt. Hawkeye's melodious voice. "...at this, Colonel."

Without having to ask for a repeat of the question, Mustang instinctively swiveled his head in the direction of her voice. At his left was a door--or what was left of a rotted one. "Hm?" The doorway led into a room that had been ransacked by theives and ravaged by time. "Must be an abandoned lab... what do you think, Lt?"

"Looks like it's not been used in some time." Lt. Hawkeye scanned the room, knowing that COL Mustang was doing the same thing. It never hurt to have a second set of eyes, though, in case something was missed. It was why she cared for him the way she did; he was always looking out for her and the other members in his command. There were other things... his eyes, his body, his razor sharp mind, but Riza appreciated the compassionate man of Roy Mustang more.

"And illegitimate, hm..." Mustang pondered to himself. _Why would there be blood spatters...? _They looked old, though...

"Not only did they not finish you off, they allowed you past them...What were they thinking?" A voice that was sweet and sickening at the same time mused aloud. Both Mustang and Hawkeye looked towards that point with pistols drawn.

A tall woman appeared from the shadows and walked towards the duo slowly. She wore a sleeveless black dress but wore mid upperarm length gloves; the gloves had a design of circles and lines on them. The most striking feature about her was the tattoo at the hollow of her neck--

"The Ourobouros tattoo--!" Lt. Hawkeye's blue eyes narrowed.

"Pity... I thought Jean would have come with you, Mustang..." The woman's face lit up in a smile, but a facsimile of a friendly one.

"How do you know Havoc?" Mustang asked quietly. Despite the calm facade, he was shocked that this Homunculus knew one of his subordinates.

"Oh, Jeannie didn't tell you?" The woman's face fell in mock disappointment. "He and I are dating..."

"Who are you?" Lt. Hawkeye asked evenly, pistol never waivering from the Homunculus's heart--or whatever was between her breasts.

"Jeannie-baby knows me as Solaris, but I am Lust, the Ultimate Spear..." Lust let out a condescending laugh. "Jeannie was ever the softie for women..."

_I can see why... her figure and face were astonishingly beautiful...It would make sense that a gorgeous woman be the Ultimate Spear... _Mustang thought as he took in the woman's face and voice. It was like a snake trying to sweet talk him...

"Do you know Maes Hughes?" Mustang asked quietly. Riza's eyes flicked towards him then back at her target. _Dangerous ground, sir..._

"I did... he was very intelligent and handsome." Lust grinned an oddly pretty grin. "...and it is a shame I couldn't kill him myself..."

With barely any movement, Mustang loosed a bullet into Lust's left thigh. "Tell me EVERYTHING you know." Mustang's voice was frighteningly calm.

"Colonel--" Riza lowered her weapon slightly.

"EVERYTHING, Homonculus."

To Hawkeye's surprise, the bloody hole in Lust's thigh began to knit back together. She raised her sidearm back to its former position, pointed at the Homonculus's heart.

Lust laughed, a low and evil laugh that sent dark shivers up Hawkeye's spine and raised the hackles on the back of her neck. "It will take alot more than that for you to bring me down--?!" The evil laughter was cut off by Mustang's weapon unloading itself into Lust's chest and head. Hawkeye jumped back--this went totally against procedure!

"Colonel-! Why-?!"

"LIEUTENANT." Colonel Mustang's sharp command halted her alarmed question. "Leave. NOW."

Before Hawkeye could respond, a low cackle drew her attention to where Lust was now getting to her feet. Hawkeye drew a bead on the woman's eye. Lust laughed louder. "You are merciless! Just what I expected from a 'hero' of the Ishbalan war..."

"Save your ammo, Lieutenant; it won't affect her." Truth be told, Mustang was astonished; he had hit every vital area that should have killed a person the first time. This was definitely a Homonculus--not just a cheap broad with a tattoo.

"Now then, let me reward you for your resilience." Lust's hands went up to the rapidly healing hole in her chest; her fingers grasped the edges and ripped it open. Inside was an oval shaped stone colored bright blood red-- "The Philosopher's Stone!"

"I suppose now you're going to try and kill us..." Mustang said as if Lust has suggested going to a party that evening. "And your existance, supposed to be top secret, tells me that something important is ahead."

Without missing a beat, Lust's hand flashed as if she were waving a dog away. Riza felt something across her stomach like a breeze while Mustang ducked away, pushing her down in the opposite direction. A metallic thunk sounded, signalling the demise of Mustang's pistol. He tossed the ruined firearm to Hawkeye while pulling out his special glove--the one with runes on it...

As Hawkeye drew her pistol on Lust and as Mustang tugged on his glove, Lust's hand went out again. "Too slow!" A metallic sound, then Hawkeye was knocked to her feet by a wave of wet pressure from the demolished water pipe. She heard dimly through waterlogged ears: "Let's see you try to ignite something now!"

In a flurry of waves and backhands, Lust's right hand went everywhere. Still stunned from the force of the water, Riza Hawkeye's instincts stepped in. She was up on her feet in an instant, looking for Colonel Mustang. He was right beside her and without further--and possibly deadly-- hesitation, both sprinted for the doorway.

Once outside the door, Mustang went one way and Hawkeye went another. "When I tell you to, Hawkeye, reach your firearm around the door and fire."

Hawkeye glanced at him. "Wha--oh!" She gave him a knowing smile. "Waiting on you, sir..."

_There's enough water in there for my purposes...where there's water, there's hydrogen!_ Mustang put his hand in the puddle that was slowly trickling out of the room and concentrated; Lust's footsteps grew louder. "NOW!"

Hawkeye put her pistol through the doorframe and fired a single shot, then leaned over to her right, away from the door--

--and the very large, very loud explosion. Debris flew everywhere out of the room.

"Remind me to tell Havoc to dump this girl... You alright--Lieutenant, you're bleeding!" Mustang looked down at Hawkeye as she glanced down at her midsection.

Where she had felt the wind across her midsection, Hawkeye saw three angry red lines across her black shirt. They were not deep or painful, but they gave Hawkeye something to worry about-- her modesty. Her shirt was in tatters in front and barely decent. "It's nothing sir-- let's go make sure she's not coming back." Mustang helped her to her feet.

_That was Hawkeye for you; always focusing on the mission._ Mustang thought. She was right: the scratches weren't bad or deep, more like paper cuts. He still couldn't help but worry about her...

Upon entering the room, Hawkeye scrunched up her nose. "Phew... burned or incinerated...?"

"Incinerated--there's fat in the air..." Mustang unconsciously rubbed his upper lip and thought to himself. _Could she survive that...?_ "Stay alert, Lieutenant..." _No need to tell her twice._ Hawkeye was already searching one corner of the room, pistol and eyes pointed at every possible spot someone could have hid.

Mustang went to another corner, his glove sufficiently dried to catch if needed. He walked over to a debris pile that looked suspisciously like bones and toed it with his boot--nothing. He turned around to check on Hawkeye--

--and felt a stinging sensation through his lower left back and his stomach. "Hhaaa---?!" Mustang looked down to see several long black... 'nails' would have been the correct term... protruding from his left side, just above his floating rib and just above his navel. He bit back a pained cry as white crept into his vision, then red, then black, then nothing.

At Mustang's gasp, Hawkeye turned to face him. "Colonel--!!" As she watched, the two nails 'schlooped' back through Mustang's body. "No--!" she cried out as he slumped face forward onto the ground with a breathless groan. Behind him stood Lust, grinning triumphantly, muscles and skin knitting back together.

Without a second more's hesitation, Hawkeye began to fire. She did not notice, but tears began to stream down her cheeks. Lust did.

"Was he someone special to you?" She tormented through the hail of bullets; all hit her, but went through her flesh like so many needles through cloth. "Did you care about him?"

"SHUT UP!!" Riza kept firing--the gun clicked in response. _SHIT! _She went for one of the other magazines she kept in her cargo pocket, dropping the empty one.

"Too slow!" Lust's right hand flicked in Hawkeye's direction and Riza felt three stings in her left side. She looked down to see three of Lust's fingers in her chest; two just under her left breast and one right over it; she suddenly felt dizzy. Red rimmed her vision as Lust flicked her left hand forward, not even removing her right hand, catching Riza in the right side of her chest, then brutally yanked both hands free. Riza Hawkeye was gone before she hit the ground without a sound. _Roy..._

Her hands dripping blood, Lust walked over to COL Mustang. S he knelt down beside him and removed the reactive glove from his hand and tore it to shreds; it had caused enough problems as it was. The man coughed, then stirred, but his eyes remained closed. "And you, Mr. Flame Alchemist, will be joined momentarily by your other compatriots..."

_Riza..._


	2. Intermission

_Roy...wake up...someone needs you_

Mustang's eyes opened with a jolt. Around him smelled of burned ozone, blood and charred flesh. He lifted his head up, trying to make out his surroundings.

A few feet away from him lay someone familiar... "Lt. Hawkeye--Riza--?!" His whispered question was cut off by a fit of coughing. _No..._ Mustang dragged himself the short distance to Hawkeye's still form and looked her up and down.

There were small puncture wounds all over her chest.

The woman's eyes stirred, but did not open. "C'mon, soldier, open your eyes..." Mustang placed one hand on Riza's chest to stop the bleeding, using the other to steady his weak body. "...Don't die on me... that's an order, Lieutenant--" An incredible pain seized him and he doubled over.

As he did, he looked at his hand. The glove had been taken off and shredded... but that didn't mean... Mustang took out his knife. Shakily and painfully, he cut something into the back of his hand. "...ngh!!"

Finally finished and nearly faint from pain, Mustang looked back at Hawkeye; she was still unconscious and fading fast. "...this is going to hurt..." He put his hand on his wounds in his chest and concentrated. A searing pain erupted and the colonel almost passed out while the scent of charred flesh permeated the air. _No--fight through it! Can't let any more of your subordinates die--especially her! _He repeated the process with his stomach wound, actually losing consciousness this time.

Struggling back to consciousness was like walking on his hands through a bog in the dark, but it was done. Mustang looked again at Hawkeye; her breathing was getting shallower. _Now or never, Roy..._ He straddled the badly injured lieutenant and placed his left hand over her right one, giving him some stability. With some concern for her modesty, Mustang removed what was left of her shirt, exposing her sports bra and a torso finely tuned through hard excercise. A weakened cough came from Riza and she opened her eyes barely. _So strong... she would not have survived this if she were a regular person... _

"Don't try to speak...you're badly hurt, Lieutenant...I'm going to try and save you, but..." Hawkeye was no longer listening; she had dropped back to semi-consciousness. Mustang finished anyways "...it's going to hurt more... I'm sorry..." He concentrated hard; the seared meat smell filled the room again. Hawkeye bucked and gasped beneath him; tears of pain rain down her face. Even semi-conscious, she knew it was important to try and stay quiet in case Lust was in hearing distance, but she would fail if the pain did not stop. Without a further thought, his hand still on Riza's chest, he leaned forward and planted his mouth over hers. Hawkeye's eyes barely opened and the scream that was held back was silent. Her once pain-rigid body went limp, but her hand gripped Mustang's with a fierce intensity.

Before Mustang finished the kiss, he felt Hawkeye go further into unconsciousness. He looked at his right hand; his goal was accomplished. He looked back at her face; she looked as if she were at peace, just sleeping instead of possibly fatally injured, then completed cauterizing the rest of her wounds.

"I shouldn't have brought you with me..." Mustang coughed, bringing up blood. He removed his military issue jacket and covered Hawkeye from shoulder to ankle with it. "Don't die on me, Lieutenant... I'll come back for you, I swear..."


	3. Saving Me

Mustang did not remember what happened after he left Hawkeye in the lab; he was overcome with pain and rage. Everything was just a blur of agony, rasping breaths and the smell of burnt flesh.

He barely remembered Alphonse Elric and Jean Havoc rushing to his side and lowering him to the floor. Havoc would later tell him that he was begging for someone to check on Hawkeye in the lab. He did not know that Fuhrer President King Bradley had been there and taken Hawkeye to the ambulance.

An eternity later, Roy Mustang opened his eyes. A bright, searing artificial light assaulted his eyes and he closed them. "...aarrgh...!"

"Colonel Mustang--?! Nurse!!" A familiar voice cut through Mustang's haze. "Mother of God, sir, you had me worried!"

"...turn off the fucking lights...!" Mustang grunted through clenched teeth. The lights dimmed until they were not painful and he opened his eyes to see Jean Havoc leaning over him. A thought suddenly struck Mustang and he sat up. Almost as quickly and not as quietly, he fell back against his pillow, clutching his injured abdomen. "...Lt. Hawkeye...?" he asked through gritted teeth, fearful of the answer.

"Right next to you." Havoc's voice went solemn; he pointed and Mustang followed the other man's finger.

The other area was darkened. Havoc moved aside the curtain separating the portions of the room and Mustang saw her. She was lying facing away from him, an IV hooked up to her arm, steadily dripping. Havoc was speaking, but Mustang barely heard him. "She was on the brink when the ambulance got to her; she still is. Cauterizing her wounds was a good move on your part, sir; she would have either bled to death or from both lungs being punctured before the ambulance got to her. Doctor says it's going to be touch and go for the next few days; she's lucky to be alive now. Sol--Lust did a number on her--Sir, have you lost it?!"

Before Havoc had finished his description of Hawkeye's wounds, Roy Mustang was out of bed and pinning him to the wall by his throat, squeezing with all the strength he had to muster--which wasn't much. If Havoc wanted to, he could have restrained the injured colonel; he didn't.

"What the fuck is your malfunction, Lieutenant?" Mustang half growled, half wheezed into Havoc's face. "You were DATING that... that THING..."

"Sir, I did not know." Havoc's face was straightfoward, regretful and mournful.

"So help me, if she dies--" Pain seized Mustang as a series of coughs immobilized him. He released Havoc and dropped to the floor, holding the left side of his chest.

"If she dies, sir, I will give you my head on a platter." Havoc knelt down and put his hand on Mustang's shoulder. "I swear on any and every holy book that I DID NOT KNOW she was a Homonculus."

"... get the fuck off me..." Mustang coughed again, bringing up a tiny amount of blood. "...should have gone alone...I shouldn't have let her come with me..."

"Sir... I'm going to lift you up... you need to be in bed." Mustang did not resist as Havoc slipped his hand under his right shoulder and one on his back. The younger lieutenant lifted the injured man to his feet and supported his limp back to the hospital bed. "Get some sleep, sir."

"Wait--I'm... I'm sorry, Lieutenant." Mustang held out a hand to halt Havoc's leaving; Havoc turned and smiled, then winked.

"You don't have to explain anything, sir; I would have done the same for any woman I cared for."

Mustang blinked. "...uh...um... Why are we in the same room together? Isn't that... frowned upon?"

Havoc's face went serious. "Because there might be more attempts on your life. We put you two together MORE so security wouldn't be an issue. Security's stretched tight as it is for President Bradley. Do you know he was in the building at the same time?"

Mustang's eyes narrowed. "Oh really."

"Yeah, he was the one that called the ambulance for you and Lt. Hawkeye; he carried her to the ambulance himself."

For the second time, Mustang jolted from his bed, this time, nearly yanking the IV drips from his hand. He staggered, nearly falling, to Lt. Hawkeye's bedside and tore back her covers; the woman flinched in her drug induced sleep, but did not wake.

"Sir--what the HELL?! What are you DOING?!" Havoc rushed over as Mustang checked her over with his eyes, then hands through her thing hospital gown. "Jeez, sir, I know it's been awhile, but NOW??"

"Shut up, Havoc. Did you see him put anything on her?"

"No. I had eyes on the whole time; nothing. He put her on the stretcher, whispered something, then left."

"Did you hear what he said?" Mustang whirled on Havoc, then gasped in pain and grabbed his side. He slumped into the chair next to Hawkeye's bed as Havoc replaced the covers.

"Something along the lines of 'Stay alive for him'. That's all I heard, I swear it. Sir, you really need to be in bed. I swear, I'm going to have them tie you down..." Havoc again helped Mustang to his bed; this time the wounded man stayed there. "I swear, sir, I'm going to tie you down. I'm getting something to eat; the nurse should be in shortly."

Sometime later, Mustang was unsure of when, he woke again, with a start. The lights were out save for a soft lamp near Lt. Hawkeye's bed. He looked over in that direction; she was still there, breathing slowly. He slowly got out of his bed, ignoring the pain in his chest and stomach, and limped over to her side.

She looked so peaceful, beautiful lying there, her honey blonde hair in a halo around her head. An image flashed in Mustang's head... Riza in his arms, moaning, not in pain, but in ecstacy. Sweating, naked and holding him against her, kissing his neck and face while he continued to thrust into her... Mustang shook the image out of his head. _Not now... not while we're still in the military... not while we're still in danger._ His pants swelled in discomfort and he looked down: a massive erection tented the hospital issue slacks. "Won't you be a sight to see when the nurse comes in..." _Cold showers, Major Armstrong in a thong, Mom in a two piece...that old granny Ed works with in her skivvies..._ Finally, it went away.

Without thinking, Mustang put his hand over Lt. Hawkeye's and squeezed it gently; she squeezed back barely. "She's dead, Lt. Hawkeye; she's not going to be any more of a threat." he whispered without realizing it.

He limped back to his bed, but not before seeing a familiar figure standing outside the door. "Armstrong?"

"Yes, Colonel." The head peeked in. "Are you feeling well, sir?"

"I feel like I've been stabbed numerous times, Major."

"I have dinner for you if you're hungry, sir." The low lamp illuminated a meal of chicken, rice and peas with a glass of juice on the table near him. Mustang realized that he was famished.

"How long have I been out, Major?"

"From the time you were brought in? You were out for about a week. My understanding is that you woke again about three days ago and pinned Lieutenant Havoc to the wall." Major Armstrong sat down in the chair nearest the door.

"So I've been out for three days...? Has she...?" Mustang looked over at Hawkeye.

"...no, sir. She's lucky to be alive as it is; she's been out for about two weeks. The doctors are unsure, but she is a strong woman; she'll make it through." Armstrong winked. "She'll make it, sir." he said again, more emphatically.

"She will indeed..." Mustang murmured


	4. Riza

_Riza... you need to wake up... someone needs you..._

I can't open my eyes.

_Fight it, Riza; it's not your time yet. Rest now and dream._

Dream, Lieutenant Hawkeye did. She dreamed of a hand on her chest, a fierce burning pain, then...

His lips touched hers sensuously. She knew the reason for it; to keep her quiet in case she failed to, but it didn't matter.

She dreamed of strong but gentle hands caressing her over and over while sensuous lips planted kisses all over her body. The mouth moved downward to the now moist area between her thighs and thhead the mouth belonged to looked up. Warm hazel eyes simmered in her soul. They looked up for merely a second before the mouth covered the most sensitive area of her body.

"...please..."

"I need you, Riza...I want to taste you so bad..."

And taste he did. Riza gipped her sheets as pleasure built up. "Oh--!"

Then she woke up.

* * *

She sat up, gasping for breath and sweating. _Where am I?_ she asked herself, looking around.

"Lt. Hawkeye-?!"

This was a hospital, she figured.

"Hawkeye?"

A concerned voice was talking to her; Riza looked in that direction. Col. Mustang was sitting by her bed, looking at her with sleepy, concern-laced eyes. "Sir...?" Her chest seized in pain and she doubled over. Mustang put a hand each on her back and stomach and gently eased her back into a lying down position.

"Easy there, soldier; you went through some rough times."

"...sir...? Wha--what happened?" Riza let loose a series of body racking coughs.

"You're lucky to be alive, Lieutenant; why didn't you leave when I told you to?" The colonel's voice was hard, though not as hard as it should have been. Even still, Riza looked away.

"I...couldn't leave you, sir..."

"And if neither of us had survived? What would have happened then?" Mustang's voice grew harder. "I gave you an order, Lieutenant; I expect my orders followed."

"I...I'm sorry, sir..." Riza coughed again, tears coming to her eyes. _Why now...? I just woke up_.

"Lieutenant...look at me." She did so, drawing her eyes to Mustang's face. What was there surprised her greatly.

Mustang's eyes, normally hard and cold, were warm and comforting, despite his lack of smile. Their hazel depths revealed concern and... caring? "...Colonel?"

"I'm glad you're safe, lieutenant."

Now Riza laughed. "Sir, I've been sleeping for... how long...?"

"About three weeks." Mustang tried to hide a chuckle but failed. "I'm glad you made it, Riza; Central would have been a dull place without you."

"Thank you, sir." _Wait--did he just call me by my first name?_

"We're going to be roomates for some time; just call me Roy." Mus--Roy laughed, a shallow one, more due to wounds than anything.

"Isn't that kind of... innapropriate...?"

"Very." Mustang's--Roy's-- voice went serious, as did his face. "But security is stretched thin as it is." He related the details that Havoc told him--leaving out Havoc's pseudorelationship with Lust. "Lust is gone now; she went up in flames. But none of that matters now." He leaned closer, taking her hand in his.

"Uh... Col--Roy...? You're kinda--mph??!" Riza was cut off by Mustang seizing her by the back of her neck and crushing his mouth to hers. His arms snakes around her body and held her close while her hands went to his cheek and shoulder. They only stopped for air. "Roy...?"

"Do you have any idea how long I've been waiting to do that?" Mustang asked quietly while looking into Hawkeye's gaze.

"But... General Order..." Riza stammered, still in shock from the kiss.

"Doesn't mean shit when you're hospitalized." Mustang pulled her face to his again, this time gentler. "I almost lost, not only a great soldier and lieutenant, but my heart as well."

Neither noticed as Lieutenant Havoc peeked in, intending to check on both of them, then hurried out; a fierce blush was on his face. He shut the door behind him.


	5. Settling Differences

"Sir, you are lucky as hell no one else knows about you two..." Havoc braked the buggy and stared hard at Mustang. "How long do you think it's going to be before someone WAY up there finds out? And when the hell are you going to get your OWN car?!"

"Knowing my luck, they already know. And I'm not--because you're dependable." Mustang smiled and pulled on his hat. "Thanks for the ride, Lieutenant."

"But--" Havoc's reply was cut off by the slamming of the door. "DAMMIT!!" The lieutenant cursed to himself and the horn.

Riza Hawkeye was still recovering from her wounds--which meant she was not technically in the military, but she wasn't out either. Their trysts could be as public as they wanted them to be and higher command couldn't do a damn thing; they kept quiet, though. They both knew that she had maybe nine months at the least, a year at the most before she was expected to go back to full duty, but neither cared. Live for the day, Mustang had said when he and Riza first made love. Just thinking about stripping her down, slowly covering her mouth with kisses while she undid his pants gave him a huge erection; he put his folder in front of it to conceal the bulge from the public.

It had been four months ago when he had taken her home after the doctor checked her out. She would make a full recovery physically; mentally, she was never injured. Mustang had taken her to her apartment and she invited him in for coffee and things evolved from there. Two days and two very sore sets of legs later, Mustang left to go back to work--lucky it had been the weekend. He had come back later that night after surrepitously doing some research on whether or not she would get into trouble; he already knew that he would be ear deep in trouble if he was caught.

But WHEN Riza returned to active duty, she would be questioned and examined on her physical health. If the sheepskin failed... Regardless, that was a year into the future; anything could happen. One of them could get out of the military, both could find that they don't give a damn about what higher thought... any number of things.

Mustang walked to the door, which was opened a crack. It usually was; Riza had just moved into this townhouse and had not yet figured out the autolock mechanism. Riza would be upstairs and, with her acute senses, be frantically throwing clothes under the bed, in the closet, anything to get them out of sight. Not that he cared; it was endearing that she would go to such lengths as to be cleanly for him.

But something made the hair on the back of his neck stand up. The telephone call earlier, on a private line, a shaky, seemingly scared voice. "Roy, you should come over... sooner than later, honey. We need to talk."

_Is she pregnant? Did we do something and forget protection one time other than the first time?_ Roy recounted the last few times they had made love. No, no, he distinctly remembered putting on the sheepskin...except for that one other time in the shower... but she had just finished her cycle... supposedly she couldn't get pregnant... His head was a whirl of emotions. If she WAS, what would happen...? The military would no doubt ask who the father was since she was unmarried. If she was--and she would be-- forced to point the rightful finger at him, they both would be in a horrible bureaucratic mess.

On the other hand, a little Roy or Riza would bring much needed to joy to his life. He could just abandon his ambition for the Presidency and be free to raise a family with the woman he loved. So what if they were both kicked out? The military could not revent them from getting other jobs. Riza had always wanted to be a teacher... she would make a lovely one.

Something absolutely random popped into his head: a metallic sound as she spoke shakily into the phone... somewhat like... "Oh God, RIZA!" The sound in the background had been a sword being drawn. As Roy dashed up the stairs, he tugged on his reactive glove and pulled out his pistol. Even during love sessions, his--and her--pistol had been in reach. These were still dangerous times...

The stairs were fashioned so that one would climb to the top of them and be facing the wall; Roy would have to turn to his left and walk down the hall to get to Riza's bedroom. He walked backwards up the stairs, using the wall to his advantage so he could not be caught off-guard.

A figure stood in the shadows; Roy realized that the only light came from the open door--Riza's bedroom-- where she had not yet put up curtains. Roy saw two sets of legs; one female and one male. The voice was chillingly familiar... "Stop right there, Mustang."

The hair on Roy's neck stood straight at attention. "President Bradley?!"

The Fuhrer President walked forward out of the shadows, Riza held in front of him by her throat. "Put that thing down, Colonel; someone might get hurt." As if to emphasize the point, Bradley poked the point of his sword into Riza's side; she gasped. It was then that Roy realized that her hands were bound in front of her, sandwiched between her and Bradley's bodies.

"What do you want?" Roy deliberately left off any titles.

"You: broken, bleeding, in other words, DEAD." Bradley spat out. "It is by my good graces that you lived while you were in the hospital; Father and all my brothers wanted revenge for our sister... You were supposed to be our sacrifice, but you and the Fullmetal Runt spoiled that."

_Sister?! That must mean...Lust...?! "_You're a Homonculus...?!"Roy kept his pistol on Bradley's head, knowing that if he chose to, Bradley could lift Riza to intercept the bullet for him. "Let Riza go then; she has nothing to do with this."

"Very well then; I may be a Homonculus, but I AM a gentleman." True to his word, Bradley pushed Riza forward. "Be careful of her..." he cautioned, as a father would to his daughter's boyfriend. Riza stumbled onto her back; aside from being tied and a miniscule cut in her left side, she was unharmed. "I would not harm her--she was merely bait. Should you survive this, you may find out why I didn't."

Keeping his pistol trained on Bradley, Roy stepped forward to grab Riza, who was pushing away from Bradley with her legs. "As soon as I cut you loose, go. Get out, get to safety. And this time, listen to me." he whispered in his ear.

As he pulled her up to cut her bonds, Riza mouthed into his ear. _There's three extra magazines in the bedroom if you need them. _

"I only need one." Roy said out loud, eyes still on Bradley, who had not moved from his spot. "Go, Riza, find Jean. If I'm not down in five minutes, don't come up here." Taking his eyes off Bradley for a millisecond but keeping his pistol in that direction, Roy kissed Riza passionately on the mouth. "I love you."

"I love you too."

"GO." Roy pushed Riza to his left, towards the stairs; Riza limped down, holding her side.

"Now let's settle this, Mustang." Bradley spoke finally.


	6. Finale

"Jean--you have to get here--NOW!"

That was Havoc's only warning before the line went dead. Without any further thought, he grabbed his firearms and dashed into Major Armstrong's office. "Sir, we have trouble at Hawkeye's place!"

"Get the truck--I'll get help--" Havoc was gone before Armstrong could finish.

The Strongarm Alchemist rounded up the best Quick Reactionary Force he could and the small convoy, along with the police, and headed out in a matter of minutes.

While Havoc and Armstrong's convoy raced its way to the apartment, Riza was in the kitchen, shoving aside boxes to find her other extra pistol and rounds when she heard shots fired and the 'whooshing' of swords.

Finally finding them, she loaded her weapon and dashed towards the stairs, Riza heard someone--Roy--snap him fingers. A burst of heat found its way down to her. She was unsure--the first time in her life--of whether or not to go up the stairs. One loud thump, followed by a softer one, snapped Riza from her indecisiveness and she dashed--backwards, as Roy had-- up the stairs--

-- to find Roy sitting against the far wall, eyes closed, bleeding from two deep cuts in his chest and a stab wound to his stomach. "Oh God, no... Roy..." Riza dropped her pistol and dashed to Roy's side, nearly tripping over a pile of ashes and bones, presumably the former President.

"Talk to me..." she pleaded as she gently lay Mustang down on the floor; he coughed up blood. She ripped off what remained of his military shirt and pressed the scraps to his wounds in an effort to slow the bleeding. It didn't help--the wounds were too deep. "Roy, no... Don't leave me...please, I need you..."

"...you're strong... Riza..." Roy barely whispered, blood trickling from his mouth. Weakly, he put his bloody hand over Riza's on his wounds. "...you'll make it..."

"Not without you... I need to tell you something..." Riza looked into Roy's face, tears streaming down her cheeks. She barely heard the clatter downstairs as the QRF came in as she continued to apply pressure to Mustang's wounds in a futile effort to stop bleeding.

"...I love you..." With that last statement, Roy's eyes fixed on Riza's face and froze; his breathing stopped and his body relaxed for the last time.

"...I'm pregnant..." It was too late; Roy Mustang, colonel of the Amestris Army, Flame Alchemist, was gone.

* * *

Havoc smashed down the door, allowing the QRF quick entry into the house. "First floor clear!" came the shout from the first team as Havoc, Armstrong and two others dashed up the stairs. Havoc saw Bradley's body first, while Armstrong, facing backwards going up the stairs, aiming a shotgun, saw Riza first.

"No..." the large major whispered. Havoc turned; his face and his pistol fell.

Riza Hawkeye lay sobbing on a still Colonel Mustang's shoulder. Havoc, who was in a better position, holstered his pistol and went to Riza's side. He felt Mustang's neck for a pulse, then turned to Armstrong and shook his head. Armstrong looked down at the men that had followed him and motioned downstairs. Havoc put his arms around Riza's shoulders.

"Leave me!!" She pushed him away. "Let me stay with him..."

"Riza..."

"I won't leave him!"

"Riza... come on..." Havoc tried again to pull Riza to her feet; this time, she gave in. He pulled her to him in a platonic hug. "I'm so sorry, Riza..."

The woman clutched Havoc's shoulders. "...he can't be gone... he has so much coming..." One of her hands unconsciously moved to just below her stomach and Havoc immediately had a sinking feeling for Riza's future. He held her tighter to him while she sobbed until she was weak.


	7. Loose Ends

Colonel Roy Mustang was buried with full military honors next to his friend, Commodore Maes Hughes. He was given the posthumous rank of Lieutenant General, the third highest rank in the Amestris Army rank system.

At the funeral were Jean Havoc, Edward and Alphonse Elric and Riza Hawkeye, as well as Pinako and Winry Rockbell, Gracia and Elicia Hughes and the new Fuhrer, Alex Louis Armstrong.

No one but Gracia noticed the gentle straining of Riza's uniform; Maes Hughes' widow placed a comforting hand on Riza's shoulder. "I'm so sorry... how far along...?"

"...four months."

Gracia held the now five year old Elicia closer to her. "Do you know...?"

"A boy."

Gracia smiled compassionately. "If you need any help, please, do not hesitate to ask."

Riza looked at Gracia, then smiled wanly. "...thank you."

Shortly afterwards, the service was finished with the 21 gun salute. The guests all left, except for Riza and Edward. The teen unbuttoned his suit jacket, allowing the black tie to flap in the breeze, and shoved his hands in his pockets. "Can't believe he's gone." he said quietly. "I always thought I'd go before him."

"That's a morbid thought, Ed..." Riza stared down at the headstone with

"Yeah... I know. But then again, Al and I've seen more morbid stuff in the last few years then most people see in four lifetimes." Ed put his hands behind his head. "So... were you planning on marrying him?"

"We never discussed it... but yeah."

Both were silent for several more minutes. "We should go now..." Riza said, her eyes brimming. "It's going to rain."

Ed looked at the cloudless sky. "But there's no signs... Are you sure?"

Riza nodded, lifting her face to the sky, as she had seen Roy do two years ago when Maj. Hughes was buried. She spoke in a voice that was breaking, saying the exact same words as Roy had when she herself had asked the same question.

"Yes... this is rain."

* * *

(One year later)

"This is your daddy... he was a brave and handsome and loving man." Riza Hawkeye stood under a cloudless sky, holding a infant boy in her arms. "You look just like him, 'cept you have my eyes. Say hi, Daddy!"

The infant burbled something unintellible and blew a bubble from his mouth. He was about seven months old, chubby cheeked, with bright blue eyes and dark, dark hair. He had a tendency to sit in his chair by the fireplace and just... watch. Whenever the fire went out, he would cry and cry until Riza lit a candle for him. She eventally, about two weeks ago, ended up having a lamp made to look just like a fire would in the fireplace. Riza made it a point to have Fuhrer Armstrong refer her to a good school for alchemy that was NOT tied to the military. Now, with Alex in charge, schools for alchemy were just that: schools.

Jean Havoc stood by her, his arm around Gracia's shoulders and holding Elicia's hand. Gracia held her hands over her four month belly. "You gonna come by for dinner?" Havoc asked.

"I've got to make sure this little one gets his sleep; not tonight!"

"Have you even eaten anything remotely healthy since you were promoted?" Gracia let out a charming laugh. "At least let me send Elicia over with a sandwich or something!"

"I can watch the baby!" Elicia interjected indignantly. "I'm a big girl!"

"I've got so much paper work to do, it's not funny. I'm up to my eyeballs in promotions and demotions and awards--"

"And poopy diapers!" Elicia added helpfully.

"That too!" Riza patted the girl's blond head, then ruffled up her hair.

"You're not fighting your way out of it, Riza; I'm sending her with a sandwich or two!" Gracia said with mock seriousness. "She's actually good with kids; she's hoping for a little sister."

"At least the country's not at war anymore..." Riza said quietly. "There's no more needless deaths." A great sadness seemed to fall on her and she seemed physically burdened.

Havoc held out his arms. "Let me take the baby for a bit; get me some practice for my own." Riza handed over the baby; Havoc and Gracia walked off, both muttering nonsense phrases to the baby; Gracia stayed.

Riza knelt by the grave and placed the flowers that she had picked--and her some had tried to eat on numerous occasions-- at the foot of the headstone. "I miss you, honey... he gets bigger and looks more like you every day. I wish you could see him."

"He can see him, Ms. Hawkeye, just like my daddy sees me." Gracia said with all the faith and innocence of a six year old girl. "Mommy brings me here every year on my birthday and her birthday and Daddy's birthday so we say Hi to him. Then last year, Mr. Havoc asked Mommy if he could help be my daddy and now they're getting married!" Gracia jumped up and down. "I like Mr. Havoc, but I don't know if I should call him Daddy..."

"You do what your heart feels, I guess." Riza patted Gracia's head again. "Come on, kiddo; let's go with your mom and dad and get some ice cream."


	8. Alternate Ending

This was an alternate ending inspired by one of TWO, count 'em, TWO reviews.

I'm not exactly sure of what the hell I was thinking, but I KNOW I wasn't high--I'm not allowed. :( So anyways, this little tidbit starts from when Roy finds Bradley and RIza at the top of the steps.

Hope you enjoy my creative morbidity. I feel depressed now. :'( For future reference, I don't really like this ending. -- It was a pain in the ass to write. I wasn't sure how to FINISH it; you'll see what I mean at the end. Slightly (coughbullshitcough) AU.

* * *

"Sir, you are lucky as hell no one else knows about you two..." Havoc braked the buggy and stared hard at Mustang. "How long do you think it's going to be before someone WAY up there finds out? And when the hell are you going to get your OWN car?!"

"Knowing my luck, they already know. And I'm not--because you're dependable." Mustang smiled and pulled on his hat. "Thanks for the ride, Lieutenant."

"But--" Havoc's reply was cut off by the slamming of the door. "DAMMIT!!" The lieutenant cursed to himself and the horn.

Riza Hawkeye was still recovering from her wounds--which meant she was not technically in the military, but she wasn't out either. Their trysts could be as public as they wanted them to be and higher command couldn't do a damn thing; they kept quiet, though. They both knew that she had maybe nine months at the least, a year at the most before she was expected to go back to full duty, but neither cared. Live for the day, Mustang had said when he and Riza first made love. Just thinking about stripping her down, slowly covering her mouth with kisses while she undid his pants gave him a huge erection; he put his folder in front of it to conceal the bulge from the public.

It had been four months ago when he had taken her home after the doctor checked her out. She would make a full recovery physically; mentally, she was never injured. Mustang had taken her to her apartment and she invited him in for coffee and things evolved from there. Two days and two very sore sets of legs later, Mustang left to go back to work--lucky it had been the weekend. He had come back later that night after surrepitously doing some research on whether or not she would get into trouble; he already knew that he would be ear deep in trouble if he was caught.

But WHEN Riza returned to active duty, she would be questioned and examined on her physical health. If the sheepskin failed... Regardless, that was a year into the future; anything could happen. One of them could get out of the military, both could find that they don't give a damn about what higher thought... any number of things.

Mustang walked to the door, which was opened a crack. It usually was; Riza had just moved into this townhouse and had not yet figured out the autolock mechanism. Riza would be upstairs and, with her acute senses, be frantically throwing clothes under the bed, in the closet, anything to get them out of sight. Not that he cared; it was endearing that she would go to such lengths as to be cleanly for him.

But something made the hair on the back of his neck stand up. The telephone call earlier, on a private line, a shaky, seemingly scared voice. "Roy, you should come over... sooner than later, honey. We need to talk."

_Is she pregnant? Did we do something and forget protection one time other than the first time?_ Roy recounted the last few times they had made love. No, no, he distinctly remembered putting on the sheepskin...except for that one other time in the shower... but she had just finished her cycle... supposedly she couldn't get pregnant... His head was a whirl of emotions. If she WAS, what would happen...? The military would no doubt ask who the father was since she was unmarried. If she was--and she would be-- forced to point the rightful finger at him, they both would be in a horrible bureaucratic mess.

On the other hand, a little Roy or Riza would bring much needed to joy to his life. He could just abandon his ambition for the Presidency and be free to raise a family with the woman he loved. So what if they were both kicked out? The military could not prevent them from getting other jobs. Riza had always wanted to be a teacher... she would make a lovely one.

Something absolutely random popped into his head: a metallic sound as she spoke shakily into the phone... somewhat like... "Oh God, RIZA!" The sound in the background had been a sword being drawn. As Roy dashed up the stairs, he tugged on his reactive glove and pulled out his pistol. Even during love sessions, his--and her--pistol had been in reach. These were still dangerous times...

The stairs were fashioned so that one would climb to the top of them and be facing the wall; Roy would have to turn to his left and walk down the hall to get to Riza's bedroom. He walked backwards up the stairs, using the wall to his advantage so he could not be caught off-guard.

A figure stood in the shadows; Roy realized that the only light came from the open door--Riza's bedroom-- where she had not yet put up curtains. Roy saw two sets of legs; one female and one male. The voice was chillingly familiar... "Stop right there, Mustang."

The hair on Roy's neck stood straight at attention. "President Bradley?!"

The Fuhrer President walked forward out of the shadows, Riza held in front of him by her throat. "Put that thing down, Colonel; someone might get hurt." As if to emphasize the point, Bradley poked the point of his sword into Riza's side; she gasped. It was then that Roy realized that her hands were bound in front of her, sandwiched between her and Bradley's bodies.

"What do you want?" Roy deliberately left off any titles.

"You both have been a thorn in my--OUR-- side since you transferred to Central, Mustang." Bradley gripped Riza tighter around the neck, causing the woman to gasp. "You both need to be dealt with and since there is no one competent or willing to, I have to do this myself."

"Let her go, Bradley; this is between you and me." Roy kept his pistol trained on Bradley's head.

"On the contrary; this involves all three of us..." Bradley threw Riza forward, then charged both soldiers, two swords drawn. Roy pushed Riza out of the path of the swords and into her bedroom and slammed the door shut. He ducked Bradley's slash and dodged the follow up while thrusting a fist towards the President's stomach.

It connected, momentarily stunning Bradley, but giving enough time for Roy to launch a kick to Bradley's midsection.

Inside her bedroom, Riza immediately went to work freeing herself from her bonds. Once free, she located her extra pistol and locked and loaded, slipping the extra magazine into the pocket of her sweatpants. The door splintered with a crash as Bradley flew through it, followed by Mustang. The younger man threw himself on top of the older and proceeded to pummel his face with blows.

It lasted only seconds; Bradley's blind punch connected with Mustang's formerly injured kidney, knocking the colonel off of the President. As Roy staggered back away from Bradley, Riza let loose three rounds into the President's chest. The heavy calibur rounds sent the man flying into the wall. He hit with a groan, then slumped and fell face forward onto the floor.

"Roy...?" Riza kept her firearm trained on the President's still form until she was sure that he wasn't getting up. He didn't look like he was; all three rounds had exploded his heart. She lowered the gun and turned to Roy. "What the hell do we do now?" She demanded out of pure confusion.

"I'm here... I'm fine. Good shots..." Roy grimaced as he he glanced down. "We need to get out of here... I'll call the police; you get packed."

"Got it--aah?!" Riza glanced down at the pain in her chest to find a sword tip peeking out from under her left breast and another from just under her heart. "...Roy--?!" she gasped before the point was yanked out. She fell with a soft cry of pain, holding the wound, onto her side, then rolling over onto her back to see her assailant. The last thing she saw was the point of a blade going through her throat, pinning her to the floor...

Fuhrer President King Bradley stood above her, holding one sword as it dripped blood onto the carpet and the other as a cane through Riza's throat to get to his feet. "I can't tell you how much that hurt to do that; she was a fine woman." He twisted it, as if an afterthought and ripped the sword out.

"RIZA!" Roy went for his pistol and fired the entire magazine into Bradley's head and chest, tears streaming down his face. Bradley jerked back, but did not fall. Several images induced themselves in Roy's brain: Lust, the Ourobouros tattoo, Maes Hughes' death... "You're a Homonculus, too?!"

"Very observent, Colonel." Bradley lifted up his eye patch. There, Roy faintly saw... the Ourobouros tattoo. "Now it's your turn to die..."

Another image flashed through Roy's brain: Lust burning... "If you are a Homonculus..." He raised his right hand and snapped, several times. Bradley's eyes widened in panic, but Roy did not notice it through his grief and anger and the flames... He did not stop snapping until, like Lust, Bradley was a pile of bones. And, like Lust, a red stone fell and shattered into thousands of tiny pieces, fading from existance into the carpet.

Mustang did not notice; he fell to his knees at Riza's side. The woman's eyes were half open, opaque and still. Her mouth was slightly open as well; a trickle of blood flowed from one corner to puddle beneather her neck. She was gone now and Roy Mustang knew that she would not come back. "Riza..." Slowly, gently, he lifted her head so that he cradled her against him, sobbing into her neck. His left hand held her head while his right held her waist as he held her and let out the cry of a man that had lost everything.

That was how the police found him an hour late, alerted by online neighbors concerned by the multiple gunshots.


	9. Alternate part 2

She was buried, not in a military ceremony with pomp and circumstance, but in a tiny one encompassing only her closest friends in life. The site was a large oak tree on a hill; it overlooked the park and, in the background, Central. She had adored this place when he had brought her several months ago for a picnic.

The preacher drained on in his litany. "...ashes to ashes, dust to dust..." Clouds gathered as if sensing the need to be there. Mustang found it ironic that they would be here for her, his lover's funeral, but not for Maes Hughes'.

The only people at the funeral were the preacher, Colonel--now Fuhrer President-- Mustang, Alphonse Elric in his human body, Winry Rockbell, Major Alex Louis Armstrong, Lieutenant Jean Havoc and Master Sergeant Kain Fuery. A compassionate hand placed itself on Fuhrer Mustang's shoulder. "She died doing her job, sir; that's the best comfort I can give you." Havoc said quietly.

Mustang said nothing, just tried to keep the tears from coming down his face. Alphonse stepped up; the boy had brown hair instead of his brother's blonde, but had the same amber colored eyes. He was barely 14. "Mr. President... I'm so sorry, sir." the boy said. His face was dry, but his eyes showed a deep empathy; Edward Elric had been killed some days earlier in a fight with Envy; the Homonculus also perished. Alphonse and Winry had attended 2 funerals in one four day span and that tended to grate on a person.

The priest finished the eulogy and left, as did all the guests but Alphonse. Fuhrer Mustang looked down at Riza Hawkeye's grave with its fresh dirt and mounds of flowers. He was silent for a moment, then spoke: "What do you suppose would have happened if I had gotten there earlier?"

"Sir?" Alphonse looked at the taller man. "I guess... you AND her may have been killed."

Mustang looked down at the boy. "How do you mean by that?"

Alphonse blushed. "Erm... you two could have been... in the middle of something and helpless...?"

Despite himself, Mustang smiled, though it was one shrouded by pain. "Good point..."

"But we can't worry about what would have happened IF we had thought something or done something differently." Al said hurriedly, as if to cover up his percieved mistake. "Fate has a funny way of doing things; for example, if Father had not left, Momma may not have died and Ed and I may not have done alchemy."

"...what are you getting at, kid?" Mustang sighed. Why the hell was he asking for advice from a kid anyways?

"Then we wouldn't have met you, or Lieutenant Hawkeye or anyone here or gone off on crazy adventures. We would have had boring lives." Al finished quietly.

Silence took them once more, cut only by a rumble of distance thunder. "...We should go inside, Fuhrer..." Alphonse said. "It's going to rain..."

Deja vue took Mustang at that point. He looked up... "It already is..." he whispered.


End file.
